Lying Awake

Lying awake, I stare straight into the ceiling. Through the darkness. The darkness, between the ceiling and me. I think. I think thoughts that are not forming in my head, thoughts that are beyond my reach. I think... slowly and then fast. But the speed of my mind is too great, the thoughts I cannot grasp.
I think of all of those who I've inadvertently written off, and those I've kept close. I think, how some people seem to appreciate my presence, and some seem to brush me off. How some seem to care, and how some really do. I think how I've come to know people, and how right or wrong I have been.
I think of how some people are so complicated... and some right there. I know people, piece by piece. They know me molecule by molecule. Some of them are oh-so-right and some, absolutely wrong. I talk without thinking sometimes. And I think without talking sometimes. And I think. I think too much and I think too little. I think of what I was and I think of how things were and how things are. And how things will be. And I put myself in others' shoes so much, I forget my foot size. I talk a lot. I talk too much. I put my foot in my mouth. Sometimes I am inconsiderate. I hide. So nobody knows. I am a chamaeleon. I am the secret keeper. I don't know for sure if I know who I am. I don't hate myself anymore, but I don't love me either. But I love my family, my friends. Wholly. Like I think they love me back. And I cannot love without being loved. And if I am loved by someone else, I love me. I have so many stories that I myself am complicated. My life revolves around music. Music - each song tells a different story - that's an embedded part of my memory. My never ending, powerful memory.